Person Number 3: Follow the leaderMature

I'm lying on the sofa, reading a book, minding my own business. I'm quite happy with that. I'd be happier if I was cuddling with Terry, or something along those lines, but this will do. Finally being left alone for more than ten minutes is quite relaxing.

That said, ever since me and Number 1 argued, and she talked about the ‘real me' hiding under Terry's version of me, I've been having strange dreams. I haven't told Terry. I wanted to, but I couldn't make the words come out. I settled for kissing him instead and letting him drink from me. It was enough to calm me until the next dream.

I push the thought from my head and go back to reading. It's some crime novel. And something in the back of my head is telling me that I'd never normally read this. In fact, according to the voice in the back of my head, I'd never read anything. I've had dreams about being in a band back in America, too, and my parents. I dreamt about being taught by my dad how to pick locks and hotwire a car.

I also dreamt about him going to prison for something.

These dreams... they almost feel real. Like memories. But like fuzzy, half remembered ones.

Staring blankly at the page, I frown, recalling the one where my dad apparently went to prison. I was young, sitting there on my own, watching the court case. I don't remember the details. Or even what he went down for. Only that I was sat on my own. I don't know why that particular detail stands out so much.

I try to remember more, but I can't. It's like looking in murky water for something you lost. You can see other stuff, but not the stuff you want.

At that point, Terry walks out of his room and drifts over to me with a smile. Looking up, everything that was on my mind less than a second ago is gone.

"Something on your mind, Number 3?" he asks, sitting with me. I shake my head and his arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me against him. I smile, more to myself than anyone else, and rest my head on his shoulder.

"Not really. I've been having a few weird dreams lately, but it doesn't matter." A look of concern flickers across his features, but it's gone almost instantly. I wonder for a second if I even saw it or if it was my mind playing tricks on me. "They don't mean anything."

"Weird dreams about what, pet?"

"I dunno. Things that feel like they should be my memories, but I can't tell. Like I said - doesn't matter. All I want is to stay here with you as long as you'll have me." He looks thoughtful  for a moment. He takes my hand and stands up.

I follow.


The End

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